


Beautiful Things

by Adsullatta



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Character Study, Episode: s01e12 To Kill the King, Gen, Introspection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-22
Updated: 2014-03-22
Packaged: 2018-01-16 15:09:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1351945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Adsullatta/pseuds/Adsullatta
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gwen never truly blamed <i>Uther</i> for her father's death.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beautiful Things

**Author's Note:**

> In regards to 1x12 everyone seems to focus more on Morgana and Uther, but I wanted to focus on Gwen for a moment because she's the one who lost everything in this episode.

Opening the door to her wardrobe, Guinevere settled on the floor, skirts pooling around her in yards of billowing sapphire silk. She pushed aside the hems of her elaborate gowns and reached in to withdraw the small, simple wooden chest that nestled in the bottom of the space. Placing it on her knees, she lifted the lid and reached in to withdraw a tiny bundle of fine crimson satin. 

Unwrapping it, she stroked a finger over the starfish embossed on the single pewter button inside. Reaching inside the chest again, she drew out the only other thing it contained, a pretty wool gown of lavender and rose. It was the most precious thing she owned in all the world. The last gift her father had ever given her.

She hated the damned thing as much as she treasured it

 _“It’s beautiful!”_ she’d exclaimed when she’d first seen it, reaching out to snatch it from her father with avaricious hands.

_“Well you’re a beautiful girl Gwen. You deserve beautiful things!”_

The memory still had the power to scald her skin with shame. Guinevere had barely thought to question it, had made no real protest that she didn’t _need_ such things…because she’d wanted them. She’d _wanted_ beautiful things- gowns, and jewelry-fine linens for the table and soft blankets for her bed. She’d wanted the things she saw every day as she worked in the castle. Things other people, less worthy seeming people had. She’d wanted more than her father’s work as a blacksmith could provide.

And her father had seen it, had known her so well. He knew his girl wanted more than he could give her, and when the opportunity came along to get it for her, he hadn’t thought twice. Guinevere knew her father, he wasn’t a stupid man. He might not have known the man he was working for was a sorcerer, but he’d _had_ to have known what he was doing was shady at best. Secret meetings in the dead of night, admonitions to keep his work secret…there was no way Tom hadn’t known that what he was doing was dangerous. 

He’d done it for Gwen, for his little girl, so that she could have the pretty gowns she so desired. 

_“I just wanted to make a better life for us. For you. I wanted to make you happy,”_ he’d whispered to her through the bars on his cell door.

 _”But I am happy! I don't need anything else. I have everything I want,”_ she’d protested, even as remorse had begun to weigh in her heart. It wasn’t true that she had everything she wanted…but she’d never wanted anything at the expense of her father… _how could he not have known that?_

She’d promised she would get him out, that she’d save his life from accusations of sorcery, as Merlin and Morgana had once saved her. But he hadn’t trusted her, and he’d run before she could find a way to exonerate him…and he’d died.

Guinevere stroked a gentle finger over the ruffled neckline and traced the embroidered dianthus blossoms again and again. It really _was_ a lovely gown, but she’d never once been able to bring herself to wear it. For it represented not only her father’s sacrifice, but also her own guilt and shame-and that wasn’t something she could bear for anyone else to see.

Merlin had once asked her if she would kill Uther if given the chance. She'd told him that she would not, that it would make her no better than he. The truth was she didn't really blame Uther for her father's death, not really. Gwen was the one who'd killed him, with her longing and her greed and her dissatisfaction with her place in life.

She was a queen now, and had a wardrobe overflowing with beautiful gowns, a jewel box crammed with gold and precious stones. She shared a sumptuous bed with her husband the King and no one in the five kingdoms could boast of laying a finer table than she. She had everything she had _ever_ wanted as a girl, everything her father had died to give her.

She’d give it all away, _all of it_ to have her father back, if only for a moment. She’d give anything she had now for a chance to go back and say she was sorry.


End file.
